Chick Flick Moments are the Best
by jublke
Summary: Sam tries to talk some sense into his big brother. (Mild Dean/Castiel, very early stages of Destiel). Sappy one-shot. Cross-posted at Archive of Our Own.


Well, it's like this. I am quite disheartened over the recent US election, and I am worried about the future for anyone in my country who isn't straight, white, and male. So, what can I do?

Write Destiel fanfiction, of course! This little one-shot is my gift to the LBGTQ community during this difficult time.

Not mine, don't own. Unbeta'ed.

* * *

"It's okay with me, you know."

Dean's head swiveled away from Cas' retreating form. He gave his brother an annoyed, quizzical glance. "What?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and tipped his head toward the angel. Cas stood before a full-sized jukebox, head cocked and brow knotted, appearing totally baffled by the technology.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I should prob'ly help him -" he mumbled, sliding off the barstool, but Sam grasped his brother's forearm and pinned him in place with a look.

"This is what I'm talking about, Dean."

The older hunter's brows furrowed. "Guy can't work anything mechanical," he muttered, leaning over to grab his beer off the counter. "S'got nothin' to do with me." He took a long pull from the bottle and wiped his face with his sleeve before letting out a loud belch.

Sam wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. His expression contorted into his most exasperated bitch face. "Dean." When his brother turned to look at him, Sam said softly, "You love him."

Dean Winchester's eyes popped open wider than Sam had ever seen them, a clear ring of white around emerald green irises. The bow-legged man's knees buckled and he choked on his beer. Sam had to pat Dean on the back as he coughed into his flannel overshirt.

Sam continued speaking quietly. "He feels the same way about you, I can tell."

"Sam-"

"No, Dean, you need to hear this. Cas makes you happier than anyone else in this world." As Dean pulled away, rolling his eyes and taking another drink, Sam continued, emboldened by the fact that his brother was listening at all. "You deserve to be happy, Dean. I need you to know, I'm okay with it if you ever decide to act on your feelings." Sam leaned back on the barstool, unsure as to Dean's likely response. A right cross wasn't out of the question.

His brother settled for glaring at him and Sam heaved a sigh of relief. If anything, the fact that he wasn't sporting fresh bruises confirmed his suspicions about Dean's feelings for Cas.

"Ser'sly, Sammy?" Dean slurred, "You make it sound like I'm friggen' five." He slammed the empty bottle on the counter and signaled the bartender to bring another as he sat back down. "Don' need your permission to do nothin'."

Sam swallowed. "Look, I know you're not comfortable with this -"

Dean huffed a laugh. "Damn straight I'm not comf'table wit' this," he mumbled. "Cas and I -" Dean paused, swallowed, and looked away. "He's family, Sam. Period. End of story."

Sam's brows lowered. "So, he's a brother to you? Like me, Dean?" One eyebrow climbed up his face.

Dean's gaze travelled back over to the cute, nerdy angel, who was now standing alone on the dance floor, swaying out of time with the rhythm of a rock ballad. A lazy smile crossed Dean's lips before he could stop himself. Sam caught his brother's gaze and watched the flush travel across Dean's cheeks. When the bartender dropped a fresh beer in front of him, Dean chugged it.

Sam nudged his brother with his shoulder. "You should tell him."

Dean lifted bloodshot eyes to glare at Sam. But before he could open his mouth to argue, Cas came bounding over.

"Hello, Sam, Dean." The deep voice of the angel greeted each of the brothers in turn.

Sam gave Cas a fond smile as Dean nodded once.

"Hey, Cas." Sam tipped his head at Dean, who frowned back. Sam widened his eyes and Dean wrinkled his brows. Sam countered with a bitch face.

"Do I need to give you two 'a moment'?" Castiel asked, using air quotes as he spoke the last two words.

Sam relaxed his expression and shook his head with a faint smile. "Nah, I'm just leaving." He nodded at the angel. "Make sure he gets back home safe to the bunker, okay?" Sam said, indicating Dean.

His brother glared. "Not had tha' much," he slurred, then burped loudly.

Cas tipped his head and squinted, scrutinizing the drunk hunter. "Are you all right, Dean?"

Dean nodded. "Peachy, Cas."

Sam gave Dean one last imploring look. Dean shifted his eyes from Sam to Cas and back. The younger brother smirked. "Remember what we talked about, Dean."

His brother gave him a one-fingered salute. But when Cas wandered off again, this time to order some churros from the adjacent grill, Dean looked up at Sam, who was still hovering near the bar.

"What?" he snapped.

Sam shook his head. "Don't wait too long, Dean." He sighed deeply and stared at his empty ring finger. "Jess and I ... we thought we had forever." He gave a sad smile and looked up. "When you find someone special, don't ever let them go." He swallowed hard and turned to walk away.

Dean shook his head. He watched his brother leave until Cas came up and touched him on the shoulder. "Is Sam okay?" the angel asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied, turning to Cas, his voice husky with alcohol, grief, and a tinge of lust.

Cas caught Dean's bloodshot gaze in his piercing blue eyes. "Are you sure you're all right? Did you and Sam have a fight?"

Dean smiled and patted the other man's arm awkwardly. "No, man, we're good." He left his hand resting on Cas' arm and gave the angel a shy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He squeezed Cas' arm gently. "We're good," he repeated, watching as the angel processed the fact that Dean had initiated physical contact.

"Do you need a hug, Dean?" Castiel asked, voice serious and somber as always.

Dean laughed and nodded. "Yeah, Cas. I think I do."

As the man and his angel embraced, Sam ducked back around the corner of the bar and swiped at his eyes. He didn't care what Dean said. Chick flick moments were the best.

He peeked back around and watched as the two men broke apart, then walked in unison toward the juke box. Dean's hands waved in an animated way, Cas asked a question, and soon his brother's laugher carried all of the way across the room.

Sam smiled. Only Cas made Dean light up like that. Only the angel could evoke that laugh - pure and genuine - the one where his brother's eyes danced in amusement.

Said eyes had tracked him, Sam realized, and he froze at his spot in the dim corner of the bar. But when Dean placed a hand on Cas' shoulder and surreptitiously gave Sam a thumbs up, the young hunter knew he was forgiven. He returned the gesture and left the newfound couple at the bar.


End file.
